So we roll into Cincinnati around 2pm and hop a cab to our hotel out by the airport. Our driver is this old black guy named Palmer, and he’s entertaining as hell. He tells us all about the city and what to watch out for, stories about crazy crackheads and his time in Viet Nam. He gives us his cell number and he’s now officially the Fightlinker taxi for the rest of the weekend.
After a quick shower and change of clothes (we were both stewing in our own grossness by the end), we rand right back out the door to the weigh ins. We called Iggy from MMAJunkie and Kris from UFCDaily. Iggy was still running around doing whatever the fuck Iggy does, but Kris was already at the weigh ins and had stolen some pretty good seats down near the stage. The way it’s supposed to work is you get tickets with seat numbers printed on them, but we all decided to fuck that shit and sit up with Kris and his girlfriend.
The weigh ins were pretty quick and unremarkable. The only guy who didn’t make weight the first time was Josh Burkman, who stripped naked (I was the retard screaming “Stop staring at his cock, Dana”) and still couldn’t get the last .5 off before hitting the sauna again.
Tim Sylvia looked especially agile hopping around the stage trying to get his socks and pants off. Stephan Bonnar pretended to pee in a cup and gave it to Dana White … I guess that’s what fighters who have been nailed for steroids have to do nowadays.
That was about it for interesting weigh in shit. We saw a number of people floating around … Frank Trigg, Wanderlei Silva, and the Tapout dudes. Ten minutes after the weigh ins were over, we met up with Iggy and we all headed down to a pub to get fucking drunk with the Mickey’s crew.
Let me tell you what, boy did we get smashed. They were serving up these big ass cans of Mickey’s and after two hours I was onto can number 5. With nothing in my belly but a pulled pork sandwich (pulled pork is the most awesome invention EVER), I was fucking hammered and am impressed that I didn’t start a fight or cause any major problems.
Over the course of the afternoon several fighters dropped into the bar … Kenny Florian, Stephan Bonnar, and Keith Jardine. Kenny was the nicest of the bunch, and he hung out the longest signing everything we gave him, he even signed my elbow! We asked him about the ‘finishing move’ name and suggested the Cut’n’Fuck. I guess we’ll see if he picks it up.
Keith Jardine was pretty hedgy … he was there with his dad and some hot chick who I assume is his girlfriend or something. I snuck around taking video of them all but when I got back to my seat I realized I was a drunken moron and forgot to start recording. So you don’t get to see what Jardine’s dad looks like. Let’s just say he’s a cross between Gary Busey and his son. Huge guy.
Anyways, Keith hid in the corner of the patio for an hour and then left. I was waiting for the line to disappear so I wouldn’t have to wait around, but when I ran up they were like “Sorry, no more people”. Fucking damn it. So while they weren’t looking, I stole Keith’s chicken strips.
Past that, shenanigans with the MMAJunkie and Mickeys guys. Kris and his GF were too young to drink (kids!) so they basically got to watch us make fools of ourselves until like 10 pm when some crappy band drove us out of the pub. After that we all wandered around town looking for food. We ate some shitty cardboard pizza, and then a few White Castle sliders (I can now cross “Eat at White Castle” off the list of things to do before I die).
The Mickeys guys all called it a night but the Fightlinker and MMAJunkie guys are more hardcore than that … we stocked up on booze and smokes and hung out at George’s place until 3am. That pretty much wrapped up the evening … Jake and I woke up at the hotel without really remembering how we got back there. And now it’s fight night and it’s time to really fuck around.
On a side note I’d just like to say that considering the amount of Mickey’s we both drank last night, we’re amazed that we’re not half dead today. But so far, we feel great. Of course, I may still be drunk. I’m not quite sure yet.